


Pray That Our Loss is Nothing but Time

by anger_ieJ9



Series: Stucky Playlist [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-20
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-15 02:10:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5767273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anger_ieJ9/pseuds/anger_ieJ9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We always say ‘till the end of the line,’ and the end of the line isn’t when you leave in the morning.” Steve brushed one hand up and started petting Bucky’s hair. Bucky started petting the skin along Steve’s stomach, watching his fingers glide from bones to gut while the quaint muscles shivered. “All those things we keep talking about doing? Getting a real house, and me being a famous artist while you back me with all your big shot money. We’ll still do all that. That ain’t going nowhere. So, we lose some time, so what? I’ll be here when you get back; all you gotta do is get back.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pray That Our Loss is Nothing but Time

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [但愿我们所失去的只是时间](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5783341) by [anger_ieJ9](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anger_ieJ9/pseuds/anger_ieJ9), [Pearlson613](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearlson613/pseuds/Pearlson613)



> Written by the tune of Till Then performed by the Fontane Sisters

His uniform was hanging in the closet. He’d worn it tonight to show off, and he’d wear it tomorrow to leave. Leave to go… To go. He didn’t even have a picture in his head where he was going to. They told him France, but he’d never been outside of this city. He could only imagine it in black and white, with tinny explosions that stirred up a hurricane of dirt while the nasally-constipated narrator whined in excitement.

“Shut up.” Bucky flinched and twisted his neck to look at Steve’s face on his shoulder.

“Shut up what? I didn’t say nothing.”

Steve rubbed his face sleepily against Bucky’s armpit and huffed.  “You’re thinking so loud you woke me up. What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“Now again, without lying,” Steve demanded, setting himself up on an elbow and looking down at him. Bucky couldn’t help thinking that even while Steve was looking up at him, he was always looking down at Bucky. Now he called him out, Bucky had to say something of the truth, and it was hard to look at Steve while tried to find the words that said why his chest was so thick and his fingers numb and throat tight.

“It’s just-“ he started because he had to start sometime, but the words weren’t there yet. He felt Steve shift beside him, shuffling up the mattress to pet the hair off Bucky’s forehead and hum an encouraging little note. “What’s gonna happen, you know? What am I gonna do? When I’m fighting. What’ll happen to me. What’ll happen to you.”

“You don’t gotta worry about me, Buck.” Bucky snorted a laugh.

“Hasn’t stopped me yet, huh?” Steve snorted, too, and gave a gentle tug to Bucky’s hair. Bucky flung an arm around him and rolled them over. He curled around Steve and pressed his face against his shirt and ribs. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do or what to expect. It’s gonna get cold before long and then what’ll you do? I just can’t stop thinking about it. What am I gonna do in the cold? What if I’m dead before-“

“Shut up,” Steve demanded, but he whispered it. Bucky was cowed into silence by the way his voice quivered more than anything Steve had ever yelled at him. Steve clung to him, tight around his ribs that somehow eased the tightness that’d been growing there before; Steve squeezed him and made it easier to breathe. “We got a long way to go in life. We got a lot of places to be. You’ll cross oceans and mountains, and someday. Whenever it is, you’ll come back to me. Till then, I’ll be waiting.

“We always say ‘till the end of the line,’ and the end of the line isn’t when you leave in the morning.” Steve brushed one hand up and started petting Bucky’s hair. Bucky started petting the skin along Steve’s stomach, watching his fingers glide from bones to gut while the quaint muscles shivered. “All those things we keep talking about doing? Getting a real house, and me being a famous artist while you back me with all your big shot money. We’ll still do all that. That ain’t going nowhere. So, we lose some time, so what? I’ll be here when you get back; all you gotta do is get back.”

Bucky snuffled like a laugh. “You say that like I’m going to the grocers.” Steve tugged his hair gently.

“Shut up. I’ll be here waiting for you, ok? You focus on getting back to me, and I’ll take care of everything else.” Bucky gave himself a minute to think about that. Steve always had a way of making things sound so easy. So black and white. But this wasn’t something Bucky could see as being so cut-and-dry. He licked his lips, and licked Steve’s shirt on accident. He tasted cotton and sweat, and he hoped he remembered that when he left. He inhaled; he opened his mouth to speak, but Steve flicked his ear. “Shut. Up. Go to sleep.”

Bucky snickered and pressed his chin against Steve’s shoulder, looking up at him. “But-“ Steve interrupted him with a sharp look before pointedly settling into the pillow for sleep. “I just-“ Without opening his eyes, Steve covered Bucky’s mouth with his hand. He covered half his face with his hand, but it was enough to stop him talking. Obediently, Bucky lay quietly until Steve moved his hand back up to pet at Bucky’s hair. “I love you.” Without opening his eyes, Steve smiled.

 


End file.
